


The One Where Everything Goes Right

by dearmrsawyer



Series: propose propose propose [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 22:36:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearmrsawyer/pseuds/dearmrsawyer
Summary: Freddie helps Niall ask a very important question.





	The One Where Everything Goes Right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1000_directions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000_directions/gifts).



It’s a warm winter’s evening with the heater running in the corner of the room, filling up the spacious living area remarkably well. Louis has his legs tucked up under himself on the sofa, a thick jumper spilling over his hands, and socks tucked into his tracksuit to keep himself warm.

The coffee table between him and the TV has been shifted to the side so Freddie can spread his patchwork blanket over the rug and spread his toys even further. They spill over onto the shaggy mat and even further onto the hardwood, but Freddie seems to have forsaken them for the moment.

He’s on his feet, standing proudly with a little maraca in his hand, shaking it without any sense of rhythm. Louis still nods along anyway. Freddie’s cheeks are puffed up either side of his dummy, just as proud as Louis had felt after listening back to today’s studio session.

“Got good genes, he has,” Niall commends, sitting on the other side of the blanket. His body is facing the wall so he can look right and check the footy score, and left to make sure Freddie’s still on his feet. He hasn’t looked at the TV in a while though.

“Adept at anything he touches,” Louis agrees. He thinks back to the picture he posted earlier of Freddie carefully inspecting a guitar.

He’d hurried over to make sure Freddie didn’t pull them right off the fret (Louis’ always underestimating that boy’s strength), but his little fingers had been gentle, pressing and plucking curiously. Each time the strings sang back to him he’d pause, thoughtful.

Freddie takes a few ambitious steps towards Niall, who has his arms out ready, so Louis lets his focus shift back to the game. He never watches them live anymore. With the time difference and his schedule he’s forever watching them back, usually already aware of the outcome. He still likes to watch the game though. It’s a little piece of normality where he could be anyone, just a spectator to another art form he admires so much.

He watches the opposing team score a goal he knew was coming and grimaces.  A travesty.

The next time he looks back at his son, Freddie is stepping away from Niall, whose hand is carefully nudging him on. He’s no longer holding the maraca, instead he’s got something small and cube-like that he grips with both hands, making his steps a little more unsteady.

Louis drops his feet and sits forward so he can guide Freddie across the uneven footing until he lands against Louis’ legs, hands pressed to his knees.

Freddie looks up at him with the widest little eyes, the way he does when he’s got a task. He bounces the thing in his hand against Louis’ thigh a couple of times until Louis accepts it.

“Thankyou, little lad,” he says, taking what appears to be a little black box. It’s velvet and his fingers rub it the wrong way so its coarse against his skin. “What’s Uncle Niall given you? Odd toy, that.”

He peeks at Niall, but he’s studying the edge of Freddie’s blanket with great interest.

“What is it, huh?” he continues to placate Freddie, who is now grabbing at his joggers, dummy bobbing in his mouth.

He pulls open the box and his head whips back up to look at Niall, whose cheeks are a very noticeable pink, and eyes are just as noticeably averted.

There’s a simple, understated gold band inside.

Louis’ throat clicks with the inability to say anything.

“Seems like an overly expensive toy for an 18-month old,” he finally manages when too much silence has passed and Niall is refusing to look up.

“It’s not for Freddie, you bonehead.” Niall’s words are high and unsteady over a nervous laugh. His eyes throw a glance Louis’ way before he looks back at his fingers running along the seam of Freddie’s blanket.

Louis takes in the picture before him: Freddie and Niall here in this house that he bought to be a home—a family home. It’s this concept he’s always held in his head as a future. Something he’s still planning for. But he thinks that future could already be here without his even noticing.

His heart swells and pushes emotion into his throat, which he tries to swallow back down. But it won’t go.

Not until Louis gently pries Freddie’s hands from around his calf and turns him around. Not until he carries him back across the blanket with one arm around his waist and the other slung under his bum. Not until he drops himself and Freddie down in front of Niall and holds the open box back out to him.

Niall looks up, brow scrunched up like he doesn’t understand.

“Put it on then, yeah?” Louis grins, face hot and heart racing as Niall instantly brightens and pinks back up.

He takes the box and Louis holds out his hand. Niall’s fingers shake as he pushes the ring onto the appropriate finger. It’s slightly loose, needs to be fitted, but that’s okay. Niall holds it in place.

“So how about it?” Niall asks, as if seeing it on Louis’ finger isn’t answer enough.

“Right romantic you are,” Louis says, but he’s biting down on the widest smile he thinks he’s ever worn. His cheeks ache.

Freddie reaches out, little fingers plucking at the band like it’s just another string. Louis lets his cheek rest against Freddie’s head.

“Seems like Freddie son approves,” Niall says, still so careful, and Louis wants to tell him he doesn’t have to be.

Louis twists his hand so he can take hold of Niall’s. “Guess it’s a done deal then.”

Even when Freddie crawls back over to his maraca, they stay, hands clasped with the ring glinting between them.


End file.
